


Male Reader X Female Jigsaw

by CampGreen



Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Horror, Literature, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 04:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampGreen/pseuds/CampGreen
Summary: One of my most highly requested stories - Jigsaw from Lionsgate's Saw.





	1. A Little Game

Everything goes from darkness to a blur. You're drunk off fatigue, still tottering between consciousness and unconsciousness. It's all just a dank, ugly, featureless eye-sore to look at, everything around you, and a metallic coldness encloses your head while something similar chokes your neck - a collar. The one and only source of illumination is a single buzzing lightbulb, pendent from a frail string and harassed by a moth. The floor is swallowed by dust and cob-webs and there's a big gaping doorway that's the only way in or out from your closet-sized cell. Not that that matters, since you're not going anywhere any time soon. You're strapped to a long retired electric chair, the metal restraints gluing your ankles and wrists to its arms and legs. You're in your typical clothes, just stripped of any footwear. You wonder why... Sitting right in front of you is a wooden stool, and atop that stool is an old, dusty, blocky TV plugged into the wall that casts your black reflection. 

Your head is caged in some kind of...contraption. A black bulky metal helmet that looks all sorts of wicked and has only a small window so you can see, putting the fear in your eyes and the skin surrounding them, pruny from frightened tears, on full display. Your heart hiccups when the TV switches on. The staticy, shuddering image instantly makes your body wind up in terror. It's a headshot of a person, quite feminine if you do say so yourself judging from its sharp and slanted outline. A lion-esque mane of bushy black hair casts a background against her face, oh God, her face. Chalk pale, neatly smothered in white makeup and with two red targets painted onto her cheeks. Like a puppet, a couple of black lines are drawn vertically from the corners of her lips to her chin. Her sockets are swallowed in black paint, and all that burns through it are her scarlet irises. 

_"Hello, (Y/N),"_ the crackling, low quality audio blares out of the television. Her voice is inhumanly baritone, deepened by an unseen voice changer. _"I want to play a little game."_

_"Where am I?!"_

_"You, (Y/N), are imprisoned within a dark complex, miles away from the light of day. Underground. Remote. Unknown."_

_"How do you know my name?!"_

_"I know everything about you, (Y/N). I've been stalking you for a couple months now."_

_"...B-Bullshit!"_

_"I know how you're about to flunk Algebra, I know how you check your backside out in the mirror every time you dry off in the shower, I know how one of your favorite hobbies is watching your mom undress through a peephole, I know you please yourself at least six times a day, but most importantly, I know how you're a pathetic junkie."_

_"..."_

_"Your parents tried so hard to mold you into a model citizen, yet you insist on living off the life support of every dirty drug you can scavenge from your degenerate friends. You don't even care about your life, (Y/N). So why should anyone else? Why should I even be arrested for killing a boy no one cares about?"_

You clench your eyes and start weeping from underneath your mask, mostly from fear of the nightmarish situation but a little bit from the sorrow of your scathing roast.

_"Don't worry, (Y/N). After I'm through with you, you'll have more than enough motivation to live life to its fullest. The quickest way to learn how to appreciate life is to almost lose it."_

_"SOMEBODY HELP ME!"_ You hopelessly scream at the surrounding dark, purposelessly thrashing around in the confines of the chair. 

_"There's nobody down here, (Y/N). It's just the two of us. All you have to do is prove to me that your life has meaning. Convince me that the world will lose something if I were to callously activate that device on your head without second thought."_

_"I PROMISE I'LL BE A GOOD PERSON! JUST PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"_ You beg as the fear of death starts to sink deep into your reptile brain.

_"Inane babbling is no persuasive essay, (Y/N). Instead, you'll have to complete a series of three trials. Then and only then will I be convinced that you deserve a place in this world. Until that moment comes...let the games begin."_

Your restraints are remotely undone and you're free to explore the grungy bunker built to torment you in ways you could never imagine.


	2. Trial One

You take a few calming breaths as you wipe your eyes clean, hyping yourself up for this hellhole you'll have to face head on. You stand up but wobble a bit your first few steps. You've been seated for quite a while now. You stumble out the door and all that surrounds you are the barren, dilapidated corridors of the "play-pen". You soon come across a towering door, one of bulky, rusted metal, with a big valve handle in its center instead of a doorknob. Not exactly Hercules, you try at the steering wheel-looking lock a couple times and are eventually able to pry the big hunk of steel open, letting you wander into the next slice of the facility.

It's cramp and cold, the cage-like walls, floor, and ceiling matching the door in its tarnished metal texture. You literally jump as your entrance automatically shuts behind you, leaving you in the dark, but fortunately that's rectified when a really warm orange glow sweeps over the room, switching it from a hollow cold to toasty and from pitch black to like you're a bit too close to a campfire. The illumination is coming from a set of combustion chambers installed behind each of the four cage walls. Wait a second...combustion chambers? The burn also casts light upon a second door. This one, however, is locked with a passcode keypad. Finally, there's a decrepit intercom looking down upon the room from one of the corners that starts broadcasting your captor's haunting address just like the TV.

_"Welcome to your First Trial."_

_"What the fuck is this thing on my head?!"_ you shout at the crackling wall-mounted box.

 _"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, just listen carefully. I've outfitted you with a chastity belt, an underwear that imprisons the genitalia."_ You feel your crotch and sure enough, there is in fact a metallic, leather strap around your pelvis. _"This isn't any old belt, however. Your penis is free to harden and ejaculate all it wants. The only catch is that I've re-engineered it to operate on a springlock mechanic with guts taken from mouse traps, sensitive enough to be set off by powerful contractions. In layman's terms, your dick's dangling over a beartrap, and if you cum, **SNAP!** "_ You again jump out of your nonexistent shoes, this time at the psycho's graphic commentary. _"How is that a problem though? You're not gonna get off much in this gruesome situation, this disheveled bunker, let alone enough to achieve an orgasm...are you? Well, about that. You're locked in a furnace. A dusty antique that's still powerful enough to skyrocket to say, 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit in about 180 seconds."_ **WAIT, WHAT?!?** _"Don't worry though, I tied the passcode to the end of a string of anal beads that I planted deep in your rectum whilst you were sleeping. All you have to do is pull it out, like deploying a parachute or ripping an old band-aid off. Don't get too excited though. Your manhood is one of the few things you have left. The question is, who wants it more? You? Or the belt?"_

Left in silence, you gulp as you pull your pants down and start awkwardly fishing around your anus. Your thumb and index finger bite down on a string they find among the tight fleshy crevice and yank. It all happens so fast. You're immediately crippled with a pit of nirvana gaping open in your stomach, brought to your knees as your dick sprouts up into a rock hard erection instantly, making the chastity belt cringe in anticipation like a wolf about to pounce. What must be around ten beads floss your prostate with every move you make, with a pleasure that could never be put to words. Oh God, this is torture. You have to go slow. But you have to go fast, else you'll be incinerated by the furnace. 

You take a deep breath and strike a compromise, slowly but surely dragging the conga line of small smooth pellets out your rectum one by one. Your penis shivers in response, so tantalized and ready for an ejaculation. You can feel the cum swelling in your head, but if you let it free with a single wrong move, you'll be instantly castrated. You can't close your eyes and focus like you would with any other calculated process. If you focus, you'll hone in on the pleasure and accidentally overshoot into a climax. You fill your mind with the grossest, most turn-offish images you can think of to numb the unwanted satisfaction. God, how long is this fucking anal bead?! It's like that clown endless handkerchief gag. Finally, you unsheathe the final bead from your butthole. You dangle the eight inch long cord in front of your face and, just as the crazy bitch promised, a nametag with the passcode scribbled down onto it trails at the end. 

_"1194"_

You waste no time mashing the four numbers given into the furnace door's keypad to unlock it. You scramble out just as a breeze of flames are exhaled from the walls by the combusters. You clutch your heart as it slows down from its hysterical pace and tearfully laugh in a nervous celebration that you're still just barely alive.

 _"Better than any drug on the planet, huh?"_ another PA spooks you. _"The adrenaline of a near-death experience, endured only by your will to live. You're a fast learner, (Y/N). A competent survivor too. You might just emerge from this nightmare a better person after all. But the games are far from over."_


	3. Trial Two

After catching your breath, you enter the next chamber and are victim to a water bucket prank, getting drenched from head to toe in a thin translucent goo the second you step foot through the door. There's a big square hole cutting the room in half, with only a flimsy little plank installed to cross it. You take a step towards the new "game" and are almost instantly torn to the floor with a slip and a thud.

 _"What's the matter, (Y/N)?"_ that damned disembodied voice mocks you. _"Can't keep your balance?"_

 _"What is this stuff?!"_ you demand as you clumsily salvage your slick self up off the ground.

_"A gallon of lubrication, ordered straight from the sex store. As you can see, this room's exit is on the other side of that pit, bridged by one thin floorboard and filled with hundreds of used heroin needles I got from only the filthiest hookers I could find."_

You peer down into the pit and confirm her claim. Even if the needles were clean, falling in would be one hellish fate. Getting seven degrees of HIV is merely the cherry on top. 

_"Something wrong, (Y/N)? I thought you liked destroying your body with drugs. All you have to do is balance across the chasm. Make one wrong step and you'll drown in a prickly pond of every STD you could imagine. Should be easy...if it weren't for the lube smeared across your soles."_

In the back of your brain, you realize exactly why you were stripped barefoot. You sigh as you gently place one sole upon the plank. There's just enough space to cross. Holding your arms out to your sides, you take another wobbly step, then another. Hey, this might actually be pretty eas- OH SHIT. The slippery ball of your foot violently slides against the smooth wood and you plunge off, just barely grabbing the plank with one arm like a pull up bar to save yourself at the last second. All ten of your toes drip soupy gel onto the many syringes from mere inches above. 

You make a running motion as you dangle above the needle pit in a strained attempt to pull yourself back up. Again, not Hercules, but you still succeed in remounting atop the four inch wide bridge. You take another step forward, being as deliberate and careful as possible, when your heart stops upon hearing the plank splinter. It creaks and wheezes underneath your weight. You panic and leap forward right as it gives out, catching yourself on the ledge. The halved slab of rickety wood is swallowed by the needle pit from below. You drag yourself up onto the other side, another trial narrowly passed and survived. 

_"Very impressive, (Y/N). You're one step closer to purpose. You look tired and flustered, though. Maybe a hot bath will wash that away."_

A short projection of warm water rains down from the ceiling via a handful of showerheads, sweeping your full-body glove of lube down the drain. You shake yourself dry like a dog and proceed to the next chamber, ready to escape this twisted sex dungeon once and for all.

 _"Hello, (Y/N),"_ speaks her whispery, guttural voice, no longer filtered through a voice-changer.

Is that a mannequin? No...it's her. In the flesh. Sitting atop a table, ass naked. She's the thickest woman you've ever seen in your life, hips wider than the shoulders of a football player in full uniform and tits big enough for two toddlers to sleep in. Just like her cheeks, her nipples are targeted with red makeup, and her bare feet slowly and playfully sway between the table legs like the tail of a wanting predator as you cautiously approach her. Then it all clicks, upon finally seeing her in person for the first time. Your ragged and panicky brain took a while to piece it together, but you remember all the serial murders that littered the news for the past few years. Liabilities of society, abducted and tortured to death through a series of elaborate deathtraps. You're about to be the 61st victim of her! Of the Jigsaw Killer! Oh God, this couldn't get any worse...


	4. Trial Three

_"Welcome to your Third and Final Trial. That helmet atop your head is a Reverse Beartrap,"_ Jigsaw explains as she rummages around her cleavage and pops out a small silver key, using it to unlock your chastity belt so the loosened thing slips down your leg. Your dick is emancipated at last. _"When I press this button,"_ as she flourishes a timer in one of her fists, _"it'll start a 300 second timer. When the time's up, the helmet on your head will pry your skull open from the jaw. Fortunately for you, there's another key that'll unlock it and free you from an assured death, glued to my Skene's gland."_

_"What the hell is a Skene's gland?!"_

_"It's essentially the engine for the female ejaculation. If you get me to cum hard enough, the key should flush right out onto the table. Don't try prying the key off with your hands, just accept the fact that the only thing loosening this glue is a fuck that your life depends upon."_

_"THERE ARE BETTER WAYS TO GET LAID, MAN!"_

_"But this one's the most fun,"_ she snarls as her thumb mashes down on the timer and she spreads her thighs, both of which share the same diameter as your goddamn torso, wide. _"Clock's ticking. Satisfy me."_

You hurriedly rip your dick out of your fly and cram it in between her pussy lips, working your hips back and forth as desperately as you can. Jigsaw's poker face devolves into an aside, annoyed scowl. Not only are you not pleasuring her, but you're turning her off! You're not gonna make her cum anytime soon with this approach. You take a deep breath and start moving at a slower, more thorough pace, which brightens her face up to a subtle enjoyment. After you get the hang of it, you start fucking her so well the pleasure eclipses the fear for your life, so you almost fall over as you get closer and closer to losing your virginity, catching yourself by propping up on her stomach. She unintentionally lets a strong shudder escape. Jigsaw must have an erogenous zone smuggled somewhere between her elevens. You slowly circle your palms around her abdomen like you're cleaning a window, tickling her with a trifling bliss. 

You trace your fingertips up underneath her arms, then her neck, then behind her ear, drawing a perfect line up her upperbody that leads her closer and closer to an orgasm, embodied by the gradual volume increase in her moans and gasps. As your hindquarters pick up the pace, you give her the grand finale by latching onto her breasts, so large your hands are swallowed to the wrist by the globes of sheer fattiness. With your fists plunged into her chest as if you're trying to rip her heart out, you clamp down on her eyeball-sized nipples as hard as you can. Your eyes glance at the timer and you- _**HOLY SHIT YOU ONLY HAVE TEN SECONDS LEFT.**_ Out of fear, you start hammering her pussy as fast as you can, though you make sure to keep it from getting sloppy. An actual blush scorches through the white and red makeup on Jigsaw's face, and she clutches both of your forearms just to have something to cling onto as her jaw hangs open and she goes walleyed with bliss while a climax crashes in between her legs like a train.

Five.

As if someone hurled a waterballoon at her taint and it busted, an explosion of a clear sap erupts from amidst her vulva and utterly soaks your pants with its slushy debris, spitting out another key onto the table.

Four.

You swipe the slimy scrap of metal up but it slips in between your fingers and clatters to the ground.

Three.

You scramble around the floor like you're looking for a contact with your heart beating 250 times a minute. Your nails feel something wet and hard.

Two.

You slot the key into the Beartrap and twist with a satisfying click, which slackens the headgear's choke from your skull.

One.

You pry the Beartrap off your head right as it yanks open, narrowly escaping an eviscerated brain with mere milliseconds to spare. Jigsaw is laid out on the table, sweat leaking from her pores and ruining her makeup so streams of her peach skin runs down her body.

 _"Alright,"_ you pant, skin blood red and lungs weakened. _"I finished all your damn trials, now let me go!"_

 _"Let you go?"_ Jigsaw questions after catching her breath. _"This wasn't an obstacle course with the finish line as freedom. You're not going anywhere."_

_"What?!"_

She presses another button on her timer. This one broadcasts an electric current through your collar, zapping your neck and immobilizing you.

_"Just as I said at the beginning, this was all an experiment to find your place in life. And we found it. You're my boytoy."_

_"Y-You cheated!"_ you meagerly whine in defeat.

 _"I never promised you release for completing all the trials,"_ she heartlessly explains as she snaps a chain onto your collar, tethering you to the floor. _"I promised you meaning. And what more meaning is there than to satisfy your woman every hour of every day?"_ Jigsaw asks as she exits the room, two beachball-sized asscheeks clapping behind her with every step.

 _"I beat your fucking game..."_ you sob whilst reaching out for her. _"I BEAT YOUR FUCKING GAME!"_

 _"Game Over,"_ she announces as she yanks the shutter door closed, locking you in your new slave pen.  



End file.
